Weaponry Wipes Away The Free
by FlickingCandle
Summary: When Karma lept off the cliff, she didn't expect anyone to save her. Fem!Karma Hurt and comfort story revolving around a depressed Karma E-Class. ...Karma walked back to the edge of the mountain and heard Nagisa's barely audible sigh of relief. "Koro-sensei, you're a teacher, right?" ... (Her hands were cool from the chill air blowing against them. Too cold.)
1. Prologue

Karma is not a normal kid, and that's evident in all the things she does- the glint in her eyes as she fights for her life, the pranks she plays on a known murderer.

But hey, that's okay. Because in this leaky building full of holes and misfits we call class, nobody is normal.

-(qwq)-

People walk as if on glass around Akabane Karma. They fear for every movement they make, not able to close their wide eyes, afraid of the consequences of such a simple action.

And maybe, here in the Assassination Classroom, they'll stop stepping in the pit of glass and begin to wear reasonable ootwear.

Unless you're the Reaper, sandals never killed a person.

-(qwq)-

"Good morning!" The day always begins with the sound of goo on wood and a cheerful remark from their teacher. "I will now take attendance." Maybe a dagger zooms toward his head, or a bullet whizzes at his face at that moment. But the reaction is always the same- a Mach 20 dodge and a mocking 'ahuhuhuhu', usually followed by neon green and yellow stripes against the targets face.

Karma hates monotony.

-(qwq)-

Karma doesn't know if they really can tell that she's a girl. There's nothing on her chest, and her hair is cropped short.

They call her "End-Class's Golden Boy".

-(qwq)-

She lays the side of her face on the wooden desk and shuts her eyes. If a red print was left on her cheek from the wood, maybe it would offset the giant purple bruise on her forehead.

-(qwq)-

Karma jumps off the cliff and knows that teachers are horrible, they care only about their career. If she died, it was probably so be it, so sensei saved his own skin.

When she lands in the net, there's a single tear in one golden eye.

She tells herself its from disappointment.


	2. Chapter 1

Karma stared at the cliff, an idea formulating in her mind. She'd asked Fuwa about previous assassination attempts that had almost worked, and the girl had told her about Nagisa's suicide-bomber attempt.

It sort of infuriated her, how the octopus thought so highly of his students. He could have just left Nagisa to be injured and not waste his trump card- if he had the time to shed this skin, he had the time to go outside of the classroom and escape danger.

How silly.

What kind of trick was this guy trying to pull anyway? Making his students trust him enough that any sort of assassination attempt from the students would be damaging to their friendship?

That trick wouldn't work on Karma, not anymore.

Ah, so the octopus pretended to value the students.

Trust.

Friendship.

A trust-fall assassination.


	3. Chapter 2

Assassination was a tricky thing in this classroom. Normal assassination methods wouldn't work- seduction from junior high students to a probably (middle-aged?) monster was unthinkable, and sneak attacks couldn't even make the first step.

In E-Class, you had to adapt more than a usual assassin would. With the target's psychology skills, general intellect, and skills, an assassination attempt wouldn't be expected to work if it was just a single bullet trying to hit the head of the target.

Like painting with acid on a target's face or a poisoned soft drink, the levels of success varied with how unusual your idea was, an strage attempt on the life of an very strange creature.

So, playing to the teacher's weaknesses such as his fake value of the students, a suicide trap would be a successful one.

Karma had everything she needed for the attempt on the cliff- and only three things were needed.

Karma's life, the teachers faqade, and the fragile branch hanging over the forest.

Spin it all together and it'd make two deaths.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N:** So sorry for updating that copy chapter! It was an accident. Also, side note: My birthday was on the eighteenth! I'm eleven now!

The wind was cool against Karma's face, but even with the slight breeze that passed through her red hair, her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing heavily. When she'd thought of the plan, she's temporarily forgotten what was needed by the end of the planning- she had been caught up in the idea.

Even so, she'd pull it off. No matter what the cost.

If she died and the octopus didn't save her, then out of his career. She'd take his paycheck with her life.

If she died and the octopus tried to rescue her, a well-placed bullet would end him.

...

(Stupid octopus, what kind of person feeds their student something made from the fire of a missile?!)

...

The sharp 'creek's of the branch swaying in the wind probably was the first sign that it wasn't the most stable perch, but Karma sat there anyway. Nagisa was worrying behind her, calling.

"Karma-kun, please get back! It's not safe over there!" The boy shouted, but the girl didn't hear. Biting her nails and squinting at the sky, she was waiting with heavy breaths, looking for a small yellow object on the horizon, but she paid attention to the side of her vision too. Using golden eyes to spot a yellow object, could that be considered ironic?

...

(She wasn't sure if her eyes were even an occurrence in nature. Gold, really?)

...

"Finally," Karma breathed, face turned to the side. Her face was pink from the cold, and the branch was steadily seeming to become more perilous. Nagisa was waiting for her to come back to the edge of the mountain, too worried to even call out to her. As if his words would break the branch beneath her.

Even as the boy bit his lip and complained about the chill, Karma thanked him for staying right beside her. Though she did tell him to go back into the classroom if he wasn't going to go home.

"Karma-kun, please." Nagisa whispered, but he knew his friend was too stubborn. Whatever Karma had planned, she intended to carry it out. Even with his begging.

...

(She honestly felt bad for refusing his pleas. Just a bit.)

...

Karma walked back over to the edge of the mountain and heard Nagisa's barely audible sigh of relief. "Koro-sensei, you're a teacher, right?" The mute reply was a nod with the eternal grin possibly becoming the slightest bit stressed.

...

(Her hands were cool from the wind blowing on the sweat. Too cold.)

...

"So you'd give your life to help your students?" She asked, a tiny grin playing across her pink lips. A nod.

"Ah, so I can kill you then."

...

(She didn't fall all for the assassination.)


	5. Chapter 4

Karma didn't believe in children fairytales. She'd overheard some, during those cold nights spent alone at the library. The soft voice of a parent reading a story about dragons and princesses, about gleaming swords that shone in the bright moonlit night and continued to glow with reflected light until sheathed.

But they weren't to her fancy. The plumes of smoke exhaled from the dragon's nostrils, the great looming kingdoms run by powerful kings. They just didn't seem right to her.

She listened anyway, leaning against the wall separating the nonfiction section from the toddlers and children's reading corner. Her ear pressed to the cold wall, she yearned to hear the voice of another person.

(It was a small comfort in the silent place of looming bookshelves twice her size.)

And she didn't like mythology. Greek, Roman, Norse. They were interesting tales of wit and courage and Karma found she quite liked the subject. But reading it was a different task- the inked tales just weren't the type of book she liked.

Karma appreciated a challenge, and she felt that's what a book was supposed to be. Not a bunch of random spilled facts jotted down on a piece of paper. Connected stories with all their facts. Complexity done in the right way.

Those tales offereed her nothing of the sort.

(And yet she still read them quietly to herself in the dusty corner of her huge hateful house.)

But there she was, experiencing a clichè found only in myths and fairytales.

Her life was 'flashing right before her eyes'.

And yet, as if her memories rejected the notion of dying with clichèd thoughts, she began to feel a torrent of emotions accompanied by colors that screamed out at her. Neons of the brightest greens, glaring whites and firey crimson that flickered to life behind closed eyelids.

White, the color of purity. But in Karma's mind, a quiet color as well. Solitude found on snowy mountain peaks that chilled to the bone. Shaking winter snow out of the branches of the leaf-less trees by leaning against the cold bark.

(Her life began with an unnatural coldness, but it was sadly enough one of her happiest times. She didn't remember it, after all.)

Baby blue, next. As if color began to seep into her thoughts, her imagination starting up with full intent on finishing. But I think would be it's own color for now, and that was all it needed to be at the moment. Not show-stealing, not a bright and obvious color. Quiet joy.

(Imagination mixed with her cold beginning.)

A light sea green. More colors joined, but somehow the white was still obvious. Obvious that it could not be taken away by another color, could not be washed away by lightheartedness. Because solitude was still a part of her life.

(Like plunging into an icy lake, she felt the couldn't escape the feeling that even with her initial coldness, ice was going to take her. Encase her in a shell of frost with swirls and dots marring the surface of the thin winter beauty.)

A dark red, as if it the fiery color had burned away the white, the color was deep and devoid of all light.

(Rage filling the loneliness. But it had taken away the few joys in her life in exchange for filling the space of white.)

A quiet lilac. The time when blue had come once again into her life in the of one Shiota Nagisa. But the red was still there, burning. But the fire and quietened just a bit- fading into a lighter red that still announced itself but wasn't as bright.

(So loneliness came over the colors once more. Ice creeping back on her, filling her with a cold feeling that tore at her skin.)

And black.

(Too cold.)


End file.
